Shattered Impressions
by Scorpia710
Summary: At the back of his mind Alex knew MI6 had betrayed him, sadly it took the words of a supposed dead man to convince him. And will he have the bravery to seek the truth, when it means going against K Unit, and everything he's ever learned?
1. Chapter 1: The Easiest Job

**Disclaimer:** I do not, will not, and have not made any money off this or other Fanfiction writings. The characters herein are property of Anthony Horowitz.

………………………………...

It was probably the easiest job ever assigned to him. In fact, if he had not been so relieved, Alex might have felt offended. He'd been taken straight off the school grounds earlier that day, the sound of his classmate's laughter and chatter still in his ears….

"Rider?"

Alex turned away from trying to untie his bike, not expecting to see the bored looking man, most of his face hidden behind tinted glasses. His dull, stiff suit looked odd against the vibrant green grass that the school was so proud of, and Alex avoided the eyes of six or more teens who'd found reason to stick around and listen in.

"I'm here to pick you up, your guardians sent me with their apologies that they could not come themselves."

These words had the wanted effect on most of the curious students, the subject of Alex's guardians was a dull one, and they wandered off. Alex had taken time to make every conversation about 'them,' as sleep inducing as he could.

'Them', was of course an imaginary old man and woman who were now his legal guardians but for some reason let him stay with Jack, already confusing, isn't it?

In reality, MI6 had been his guardians since the death of his uncle, but Alex already had enough of a bad reputation thanks to his constant sick status, and he highly doubted mentioning that little fact would be beneficial to his situation.

Wary but not bothering to protest, Alex left his bike alone, following the man to his car.

"You know I'm not getting in there without--"

Alex was cut off when the man produced a badge, shiny, and very real much to his dismay. He grinned when Alex's mouth shut with a snap, "They told me you'd need proof. Can't say I blame you, in fact, I approve."

As much as he wanted to snipe that his approval didn't matter to Alex, and was in fact comparable to that of a toerag--Alex decided to save it.

Maybe he could rant to the heads of MI6 for plucking him out of his own schoolyard without a beforehand notice. Yes, he'd agreed to do their dirty work, but Alex did a damn good job and because of that, felt he deserved a bit more respect.

"Name's Jeremy," the man said, getting in the government provided car and expecting Alex to do the same.

Alex rolled his eyes at Tom, who watched with a trembling mouth from the gates and then proceeded to imitate bursting into tears. They'd had plans to go see a film, something Alex had not done in months.

Waving at him in a, 'go on, get outa here' fashion, Alex slumped into the car and placed his backpack in the seat beside him.

"Nice to meet you Germy," Alex said, already testing the limits of this man's patience by mispronouncing his name. He buckled the seat belt slowly, wondering absentmindedly if MI6 would still want him to come in if he broke his back in a car crash, and was it worth a try?

"It's _Jerem_--"

"Do you know my name?" Alex interrupted and caught Jeremy's eye twitch in the overhead mirror.

"Of course I do," Jeremy muttered, sounding bitter as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Oh," Alex said, "What is it?"

A bewildered glance in the mirror, and then, "_What?_"

"What?" Alex responded, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion.

"You asked--never mind."

Alex looked at Jeremy oddly, and slunk down in his seat. "Can I see your badge again?"

The cautious way Alex asked, and another glance to the backseat just to be met with mistrustful eyes had Jeremy snapping, "No," is an annoyed tone.

Alex grinned; appeased to know he could always annoy any future capturers to death if Smither's gadgets did not work.

They arrived at MI6 headquarters promptly thanks to Jeremy driving over the speed limit in his haste to be rid of Alex. Outside the entrance waited another car. This seemed odd to Alex, but his forming questions were answered as Jeremy pulled up beside the other car, mashed the un-lock button pointedly and looked out the window as Alex got out, his backpack secure in his arms.

Through the backseat window he could see the outline of a woman, twisting something in her hands right before the driver's window was rolled down and John Crawley looked out at him.

"Are you getting in or waiting to be run over?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll stay here thanks," Alex said decidedly, surely that would be a better fate for him. Crawley did not seem amused and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

Narrowing his own, Alex opened the car door and got in resignedly.

Crawley drove off before his seat could even be buckled, and a moment later Mrs. Jones, who was the one he had seen through the window, passed him a file, a peppermint wrapper in her other hand.

"We don't have much time," she said. "I have a meeting soon. Mr. Crawley is taking me there before he takes delivers you to the airport. Everything you need to know is in the file, the job is simple. Do it right the first time and you can be home in time to finish your weekend homework," she said; eyeing the backpack.

"Yeah, I got a three page History thingy," Alex replied, already looking through the file.

There were photographs of a large building with shady looking men entering and exiting. Some carried wooden boxes while others stood bye, guns on hand. This did not tell Alex much about what he had to do with this. He began to read the neatly typed and formal run down of his job, and discovered slowly that Mrs. Jones was telling the truth for once, this should be easy.

He simply had to plant miniscule listening devices around and inside the building he'd seen in the photos.

The building was an old warehouse that had a reputation for holding drugs, dubious liquids and other anathemas. Dealers and runners were often in and out of the before mentioned warehouse, but lately, the British government had taken notice that these groups had changed from lower forms of criminals, to antagonists with a history of disruption.

It was now believed that the warehouse might hold weapons of warfare, thanks to many weeks of watching shipments being taken in and out. Because of this, measures needed to be taken. The warehouse and the surrounding forty-six acres belonged to Goldeen Haroban, and this is why Alex's services were called upon.

Haroban was working towards being Prime Minister, doing everything right in the public eye to get his place in Her Majesty's Government. He had donated millions of pounds toward charities in need and to disaster survivors, visited orphans and provided a place to sleep for those without homes.

Though most of the money was donated anonymously, somehow it was always traced back to Haroban…which was quite fortunate for him, because then, of course, the press did its job and continued to tell anyone who would listen, and listen everyone did.

Haroban was praised for his unselfishness, though no one seemed to know how he had become so prosperous, and it now seemed quite likely that Haroban would get the job he had wanted for quite a while.

With a suspicious light now cast upon the favorable candidate, MI6 had to be careful about their suspicions.

To swarm the warehouse with SAS men just to be found that Haroban had no idea about the dealings taken place on his property, could end with bad results. Alex could understand how this would be bad for the heads of MI6. He would love a chance to fire Mr. Blunt and even Mrs. Jones at times, and Alex was positive he was not the only one.

"Okay," Alex said finally just as the Crawley turned off the main road. "What you want me to do is clear enough, but how am I going to get in, and stay there long enough to plant these things, without immediately being shot?"

They pulled over, and Mrs. Jones picked up a black leather suitcase sitting between her feet and handed it to him. "These are the devices; hide them in your backpack. We've arranged it so the warehouse and the property should be clear for approximately two hours, that's all the time you have. Smithers will supply you with a means of knowing how much time is left." She said, unbuckling her seat belt as she spoke.

Alex watched as she opened her car door and stepped out; the expensive suit without wrinkles even though she took a moment to tug the jacket down. "Good luck, I'll be seeing you after your mission."

Alex glanced out the window, angry at the people walking to and fro on the street that could carry on with their lives, while his own was handed to him in the form of missions and emotionless files.

"Jack will need to be told where I'm at," Alex said, wishing he could say the thousand of other things he'd rehearsed in his mind.

"We've already done so," Mrs. Jones replied, looking like she wanted to say something further, but deciding against it when she caught the unhappy and tight frown Alex had.

"You'll be late, good-bye Alex."

The car was shut and Crawley drove off to the airport.

………………………

The plane was a personal jet, small, which Alex had expected, but very nice. His destination, a small rural area with only a private school to its name. It would take to long to get there by car they had told him, so Alex was flying into the neighboring town and driving the next thirty or so miles.

He was handed a package by the stewardess soon after the plane was in the air. She did not seem at all surprised to find the only passenger was a mere fifteen year old boy, which Alex was grateful for.

"I was told to give you this after take off, do you need anything else?" she asked nicely, young and vivacious.

"No ma'am, thank you though," he told her, hands itching to see what Smithers had come up with now. Alex felt he might have come off a little impatient, but the stewardess just smiled again and went back toward the front of the plane.

From what he had read, Alex had been chosen among the other spies because of his age. Not a very surprising reason, but it did make sense and did give him an alibi if he was caught.

Because of the private school nearby, once every few months, a schoolboy would wander onto the property in result of a dare or just foolishness. Alex figured someone had created a tale about the building being haunted, or perhaps a few of the students knew about the drug dealings that used to take place there and their curiosity got the better of them.

Not willing to cause a scene and get more attention drawn to the warehouse, if and when the students were caught, they would be swiftly scared away by one of the guards.

Hopefully, Alex would have enough time to get his job done, but if he did not and if Smithers' mysterious invention did not work to get him out of there in time, MI6 seemed sure his age would save him.

Alex undid the clasp on the package, holding it up to let the small, rounded object inside slide out onto his lap.

It was a ring, made of silver or steel. As he studied it, holding the ring in his fingers, Alex noticed it had his initials carved into the inside. Very daring, Alex thought, and possibly quite stupid.

On the outside of the ring though, there were three Latin words. These intrigued Alex the most. In italics, the words read, _"Et tu, Brute?"_

Alex blinked, thinking them an odd choice. He remembered the words from someplace, but at the moment could not remember where.

Placing it on his finger, Alex was pleased and yet slightly unnerved to see how well it fit as he flexed his hand. Smithers always did his studying before making something especially for Alex.

There was a letter inside the package as well, and Alex slid it out to read.

'_Alex, my lad!,' _the letter read, '_I'm on holiday in Peru at the moment, but I found the time to make this for you once Mrs. Jones told me you'd be needing an alarm, it's a wonderful piece of new age technology--I'm so ecstatic at what can be achieved in the smallest spaces. Inside the ring is an alarm of sorts, it will begin to burn when your time starts to run out. It will only work once; I suggest you keep it on your finger, although you might be able to feel the heat from the ring through a shirt pocket. _

_I'll be returning in a week or so, do be careful,  
__Smithers'_

Alex took care to fold the letter into a precise, neat square. He tucked it into his backpack and caught a glimpse of the homework he had. Alex's better half told him to start his homework now, that it wasn't to difficult and that putting it off would just make it seem worse later on.

In truth, the worst thing he had to do was write an original story. The main character had to be based off himself, and this was the same for all the other students in his class. However, the story was supposed to be fictional, a real life story would not work.

Alex hated writing assignments like these, the real life stories were worse though. The result was usually personal, and if he was chosen to read his report in front of the entire class--it was like baring his heart, which was the last thing a spy wanted. Emotions had no place in his life. They caused mistakes, and mistakes led to death.

In an attempt to turn his life away from such thoughts, Alex turned to the window near his right shoulder. Fields of different produce, separated only by fences, melded together like a giant patchwork quilt before his eyes.

Beside this enormous quilt, there was a river. Alex guessed it was several miles wide, and he could spot a few large cargo ships dotting the surface.

Alex kept himself occupied like this until they neared the airport. After the plane had landed, and reached the passenger dock, Alex picked up his backpack and prepared to leave. Glancing at his hand to make sure his ring was still there, Alex climbed down the stairs to the ground after receiving a nod from the flight attendant and a smile from the stewardess.

He walked toward the main building. It was small, which was not surprising considering that besides the one he had arrived in, Alex only saw two other planes.

At a loss as to what would happen now, Alex stood in the reception area moving his stance from one foot to the next. Elevator music played somewhere, and the air conditioner was on full blast. Being fall, it was not needed and Alex started to shiver.

He did not know what he was waiting for, a man in sunglasses holding a sign with his name printed on it? Alex grinned; surely MI6 was more subtle than that.

After standing there for five minutes, a sharp tapping noise reached his ears. Having lived most of his life with Jack, Alex immediately knew the sound. Although Jack was more or less a tomboy, she owned a fair share of high healed boots.

The boots in question walked through the doorway, bringing a middle aged woman with them. The lady spotted Alex immediately and nodded a hello as she neared.

"Mr. Rider?" she asked politely. Her tone professional but her eyes were merry.

"Yes," he said with a nod.

"I'm Regina, if you'll just follow me," she said, and as Alex shifted his backpack, he could see the reason for her shortness. The security guard and the lady at the desk were both listening in intently. The lady having lowered her magazine so that Alex could see the tip of her horned glasses, and if the guard leaned over anymore he would surely fall over.

In a small town, Alex guessed a young man traveling alone might produce a bit of interest, especially considering that anyone could tell this lady was not his mother.

Besides the lack of warmth between them, they also looked nothing alike. Her hair was black and reached half-way down her back. His, of course, was dirty blond. Besides that, she had an olive complexion while Alex always had had fair skin.

Alex followed her outside where the most unlikely car sat. He'd expected the regular black car, it would have fitted this woman, but instead there was a lemon yellow Volkswagen bug….

Regina caught the surprised expression on his face and grinned, "It's my daughter's, and I didn't think I'd have any customers today but I received a call last night. You never know when someone will need a taxi."

Alex nodded and gave her a quick smile, but his mind was busy. This woman had no connections with MI6?

"Sorry about that chilly welcome in there, Bod and Milley are the worst gossips. Milley comes by it natural, and after working with her for six years, I think she passed on the trait to Bod."

It took Alex a moment to straighten everything out that she'd said. Bod was the guard, and Milley was the woman with the horned glasses, but before he could say that he'd seen them trying to listen in, Regina was off talking again.

"I've never had to drive anyone over this way before, you're Aunt said you were on your way to visit your great Uncle. I didn't even know anyone lived on that property," Regina said, friendly surprise on her face as she cranked the bug up.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him in a while," Alex replied carefully.

She looked over at him as they drove out of the parking lot, and the smile on her face was genuine. "Yeah, getting to see someone after a long time is great. You'll have so much to say to each over, probably fall over each other trying to get the next word in," she chuckled.

Alex nodded. He knew what she was saying; he had felt that when Ian had went away for two months. When he'd returned with a broken wrist with an excuse about being clumsy, there had been so much Alex had wanted to say to him.

It took an hour to get to their destination. Having never seen the countryside like this, Alex took his time to look out the window and take in the scenery of rolling hills and cud chewing cattle.

Regina went on about her family, sharing funny stories with Alex.

"--and since we were leaving the next day, it had to be eaten! A honey glazed turkey does not taste good once it is frozen. This one was cold from the fridge, but I love cold turkey. The glaze had brown sugar in it and, oh," Regina made a sound of pure delight and looked close to drooling. Caught up in the story, Alex could not help but laugh.

"So, at three in the morning, me and Anne, that's my daughter, sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor and finished off that turkey. It was pre-sliced; the glaze had seeped into the meat. We were so hyper, and kept bursting into laughter at the stupidest things," she snickered, and turned off the main road.

"It's just up here, if the address I was given was right," she said.

Regina slowed down as the road ended at a gate. Alex's eyebrows furrowed. There was nothing to see beyond the fence and gate but a run down dirt road. Peering out the window, Alex searched through the trees and caught sight of the top of a roof.

"Yep, there's his house," Alex lied, figuring that the building was not his imaginary great Uncle's house, but the warehouse he was supposed to infiltrate.

"Are you sure? If you have a key to the gate, I can drive you up there…." Regina trailed off as Alex shook his head and unbuckled his seat belt.

"No, that's okay. It's not a long walk, and I need to stretch my legs anyway."

"Well, okay," Regina said slowly, looking unhappy. "You take care Alex."

Alex smiled, "I will, bye Regina." He got out of the bright yellow bug, threw his backpack over one shoulder, and took off up the driveway.

Regina did not pull away until Alex turned the curve in the drive way. He heard her slowly drive off when he disappeared out of sight. Alex waited a few moments until the soft motor sounds faded away, and then he pulled off his backpack to check of the listening devices.

He'd carefully placed them in his backpack during the plane ride and had covered them with his sweatshirt. The devices must have been cleared ahead of time, because Alex doubted airport security would have allowed him on a plane if they had not.

Pulling his sweatshirt off of them, Alex put it back on and looked over the small square devices. They were about the size of the space between his thumb and index finger, made of a hard metal substance and painted black. On the back there was a film that you were supposed to peel back, and then Alex would stick it to whatever well hidden spaces he could find.

There were probably twenty of the devices and Alex felt pressed for time. He checked his watch.

His time to get inside the building and start planting devices started at three o'clock, it was now two twenty-nine. Maneuvering his stuff over to where large bushes grew in abundance, Alex sat on the warm ground to wait.

Listening intently, Alex was able to make out the sounds of a boat motor roaring to life around two forty-five. Alex had discovered from a map inside his file that the nearby river ran right behind the warehouse. This made it easier to transport the building held, whether it was drugs, weapons or both. He waited another ten minutes, then, with a deep breath, headed out of the protected area.

The warehouse was much larger than what Alex had expected. The photographs had not done it justice. It only had one level, but Alex could easily imagine it holding hundreds of crates.

He walked at a steady pace, doing his best to look like a wandering, overly curious schoolboy just on case there were cameras in place, or if everyone had not left the building.

The entrance was a large metal door the colour of rust, Alex was thinking of the hairpin in his pocket he'd brought along just for this reason even as he reached for the doorknob.

It turned under his hand with ease, and Alex was slightly surprised.

That should have been a warning to him, but he ignored it and entered the building.

**Authors Summary: Please review and tell me if I should continue? **I used to call my cousin Germy, took me forever before I realized I was saying it wrong and that explained why everyone grinned secretly when I said his name, lol. I think they enjoyed it though, because no one ever corrected me, *rolls eyes*.  
By popular vote, this story has been titled 'Shattered Impressions'. The second place winner will be used as well for another story. Thanks for voting! Get chapter two's teaser at my yahoo group. Link is in my profile! Yassen and Alex re-meet under very strained circumstances next. Constructive criticism is welcome! You can also watch my Twitter for update notices, again, link in my profile. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2: Yassen?

This chapter dedicated to **ObsessivelyOdd, **for being a Shakespeare fan and capturing this story's plot bunny. To **May Eve**, who forgave my evil ways and granted me a second chance. I hope this chapter is both of your liking, and does not disappoint!

…………………………..

He entered the building, a musty odor coming at him like a wave off the sea. The room was large, the ceiling high above him. Alex looked around, taking in the details that might come in handy. He mentally marked where the windows were, promising doorways, and exits….

Unzipping the backpack with his eyes still on the high ceiling, Alex took out one of the many small devices; and peeling off the covering, attached it to a hidden nook next to the door. The walls were not finished like that in a house, and they were not smoothed by plaster. No, these had the metal frame showing which provided Alex with plenty of places to stick the bugs.

He placed three in this huge room. Two on the opposite walls and one under the rim of a particularly large storage box, perhaps this would help MI6 discover whom these products and drugs were being sold to.

Traveling down the hall with a silent walk, Alex was careful to listen for the sounds of voices. Through an open doorway, Alex found what he believed to be a meeting room.

There was a large table surrounded by chairs, and a few wall charts hung here or there depicting sales, whether they be declining or thriving.

Alex placed one underneath this table, far enough away from the edge so that with any luck no ones knee would hit it. With several more remaining, Alex left the room to see how much deeper into the warehouse he could travel before his time ran out.

He found the guard's room next. There were monitors in this room that hung on the walls, and surrounded a very well used chair judging by the large, rounded dent in the seat. Strangely, the monitors were off, only black screens greeted Alex as he peered at them in curiosity.

He would have thought they would stay on, even when everyone left, if only so that the guard would not have to wait for the system to re-boot. Alex placed another bug under the desk, casting one last look at the blank screens before leaving.

There is a large loo, with several stalls occupying it next to the guard room, and Alex couldn't help a boyish grin from spreading across his face as he wondered what MI6 would do if he placed the rest of the bugs in there….

Also, there were several empty rooms, not even a window brightened most of them. Many did not have electric outlets or lights. These Alex skimmed over, finding no place to hide a bug and no reason to want to.

Going back to the main room and finding a door on the far right side, Alex opened it and discovered an icebox, a small stove, sink and a well used coffee maker. Having only one bug left, Alex stuck it inside the cabinet hoping that it would work well enough to hear through the thin wood.

His job completed, Alex looked at his watch and found he still had thirty-five minutes to get away from the warehouse before he was in danger of being found.

Not willing to take any chances, Alex threw his now empty backpack over one shoulder and left the stuffy building.

Outside, the sun shone brightly and Alex wished there were more days like this. He didn't often feel the sun warm his skin, and it was a nice change from the rainy days he was used to.

Walking down the side of the warehouse, Alex suddenly wondered how he was supposed to get back to the airport, and why didn't MI6 tell him how he would get back?

He eyed the green weeds poking up from the cracking pavement, a few dandelions had bloomed and their bright yellow flowers seemed wrong next to the warehouse.

Alex had caught a glimpse of blue water earlier as he'd passed the side of the building to enter it.

Now that damnible curiosity that had gotten him in trouble so many times before, prodded at him. He rebuked it quickly, moving a bit quicker along the side of the building…although, instead of keeping straight towards his exit, he could turn the corner and get a quick look of the river.

A glimmer caught his eye, and Alex looked down at the ring Smithers had given him. Once again, Alex wondered what the weird words meant, was it a riddle, and if so what did it --

-- Alex froze. The soft swish of loose pants rasping against each other, shoes thudded down on the earth with the force of a full grown man…and it was coming from right around the corner.

It was too late to run. But that didn't matter, for before Alex could even think of it, the man turned the corner.

He wasn't alone.

And as Alex realized that the swish of clothing and hasty footsteps had not come from one man, but from eight, the men had gotten over their minor surprise at seeing him. They rushed forward, too fast for Alex to get more than a glimpse of their faces and expressions of victory. Large, calloused hands forcibly tried to shove him down and Alex fought, earning himself an elbow to his abdomen.

Out of breath, Alex was pushed towards the pavement. He struggled against them, refusing to be held down like an untamed beast but quickly tiring.

The hard concrete dug into his ribs as Alex arched his upper body up, biting the hand that tried to cover his mouth. A frustrated growl sounded as the man ripped his hand away from Alex's ruthless teeth, and Alex was left wondering if the blood in his mouth was his or not.

Someone sat on his back, pulling both of Alex's hands back and holding them still with a ruthless grasp.

The action did not seemed hurried, or agitated unlike the other men's. Whoever this was, he'd had practice in keeping someone immobile.

As Alex thrashed, trying to throw the man off, a lean arm pushed its way under his throat and pulled up. The cloudless, bright blue sky seemed deceivingly innocent as Alex was forced to stare up at it. His bangs fell over his eyes as Alex shook his head once, and then, he was forced to stop as the arm tightened menacingly around his throat.

A face came into his view, and the hand that was holding his wrists still, let go to brush the hair out of his eyes. The face that had seemed vaguely familiar a moment ago, was now unmistakable.

Ice blue eyes gave away nothing as Yassen Gregorovich stared down at Alex. He did not seem surprised to see him, although Alex started choking on a quickly drawn breath.

Yassen loosened his hold, but Alex, shocked to the core, still found it difficult to breathe.

From the group of men that now surrounded him, one stepped forward to stand above their new captive. He was a black haired man in his early twenties, and bore a cocky grin on his face as he looked upon Alex.

"Planning on going somewhere? How you going to get there, eh?" Two thin black eyebrows rose as the man squatted down in front of Alex.

Alex's clear brown eyes, already showing shock from seeing Yassen, got a bit wider as the man grinned, reaching a hand forward to ruffle Alex's locks. Had he been a bit less rough; the action might have seemed affectionate.

"Come on Seven, you can mess with the kid later," someone said, voice low and stern.

Seven straightened. "Fine then, bring him inside." He led the way, parting through the others with an air of importance. A couple of the men glanced at each other, and rolled their eyes.

Someone messed with his hands, and a pressure pressed against his wrists.

Alex, limp and slightly numb, was lifted to his feet by Yassen after the man climbed off his back. Legs suddenly too weak, Alex found the world flipping in front of his eyes as Yasses threw him carelessly over one shoulder.

Blinking as the quick change of blinding sunlight changed from the pitch-black room, Alex started to struggle.

Somehow during his dazed confusion, his hands had been bound behind his back. Yassen carted him easily down the hall and into one of those rooms Alex had decided not to bug for its lack of objects. It had a few wooden chairs and a small, metal barred window that was better suited for a cell.

One chair was pulled into the middle of the room, and Alex felt his world shifting again as he was twisted around and shoved onto the chair. He tried to rise, but with Yassen on one side, silent and imposing, and a swift footed man on his other side, Alex was efficiently tied up in mere moments.

Seven, his handsome grin wide, grabbed another chair and swung it around to straddle it.

He waved his hand impatiently, and even though a few huffed, they all left, even Yassen. He did not even glance back, and Alex felt confused.

"If there wasn't a lot of cash in it for me, I'd feel sorry for you." Seven leaned forward, the legs of the chair coming off the ground as he peered into Alex's face.

Remembering what he'd been told about the schoolchildren often wandering onto the grounds. Alex made his eyes water by digging his fingernails into the thin skin of his palm.

"I'm sorry." he blurted, purposely glancing at and away from Seven's face. Alex had never been in a play, but when his health depended on it, he'd found there wasn't much he _couldn't _do. "They dared me to! If I'd know the building wasn't empty--"

Seven frowned. And then, after a moment of studying Alex's expression, he started to chuckle. Not knowing what that meant for him, Alex continued.

"I swear I won't do it again! Please, let me go!" Alex pressed his lips firmly together, and said the next word softly, but with as much force as if he'd screamed it, "_Please?_"

Giving a little snort of amusement, Seven crossed his arms atop the chair and layed his head on his arms. "As much as I'm enjoying your theatrics, I won't let any man make a fool of himself where he has no need to…well, not most men." He grinned, and finished, "There isn't one person in this building, who doesn't know who you are Rider."

Alex's hand, with the nails pressed so firmly to his skin, jerked harshly. The sudden pain that came from that action made him hiss, and he felt something trail slowly down his wrist.

Seven watched him; not knowing Alex had hurt himself, but seeing that he was surprised.

"The horrible thing is, you never suspected. But, why should you?" Shaking his head, Seven stood and moved his chair away from Alex, speaking all the while. "I have no respect for those who send one of their own to the wolves. But I also can't help those that are sent."

With those words, laden with vagueness, Seven walked to the door and left Alex alone with his murky thoughts. Was it too much, to think the man might have felt compunction at what had happened to Alex? His words had seemed almost like an apology. An apology that he could do nothing to help, and probably wouldn't if he could…but an apology none the less.

A headache bloomed at the forfront of Alex's mind as he thought this over. Would the antagonist's ever have enough mercy on him to stop spewing riddles? After what seemed to be several hours, Alex stopped trying to loosen the ropes as exhaustion spread throughout his body. Not for the first time he wished he _had_ bugged this room, MI6 could have been on their way by now.

The bright country sky darkened and although the sun had not completely set, the moon was partly visible. By scooting and jerking the chair about, Alex had unintentionally turned his chair to a perfect viewing point.

Now, with eyes that ached to close, he gazed up and out of the window. At the same time, his back was now towards the only entrance in the small room.

Hating the feeling of being at a disadvantage, Alex thought about trying to turn his chair again. Pushing back with his feet, Alex discovered that his muscles had other plans as they sharply complained. Telling himself that a rest was _not _giving up, Alex closed his eyes for a respite. The remaining sunlight slowly withered away, and Alex happily let it die without watching.

So far he'd been left alone, and if he was going to be left waiting for hours, he might as well use it for something. With that thought, Alex let his consciousness drift away and his head lolled forward onto his chest.

In his dreams, the hours past like mere minutes. So when the door quietly opened, and Alex with his sensitive ears heard and awoke, he wondered if they had just been waiting for him to fall asleep. He hadn't seen anyplace where he could be watched, but there could be a camera--and if there was, then they probably knew he had bugged the complex.

Only partially awake, it took Alex a lot longer than normal to think this. By then; the person that had entered the room was moving to stand in front of him, his arms crossed loosely. The hallway outside the room was brightly lit by large ceiling lights, they cast beams of thin light into Alex's current prison.

They were enough to highlight the blond hair of the man. Looking up cautiously, Alex felt noticeably self-conscious. He wondered if he should speak first, and if so, what the hell would he say? "Do you remember me, or was your mind stolen by aliens? Do you have a twin brother who died recently? Are you here to kill me? Do you like llamas?"

Alex blamed the last thought on his weary mind, and continued to stare patiently at Yassen who stared back. His shirt was black, and the grey slacks clean of grime unlike Alex's own jeans which had acquired many rips in the past few hours alone. On one cheekbone, Alex could feel the dirt infected cut burn as Yassen's cold eyes slid over him, taking in every abrasion.

Though he felt the ever growing urge to scream, Alex just raised an eyebrow as the silence continued.

"I trust this room is clean?"

Remaining stagnant, Alex blinked slowly. Yassen had come across as a master of brevity, but those few words left him drowning in confusion…yet again. Clean? Of what--oh, Alex knew the understanding must have shown on his face. Did this mean the room did have cameras in it? How else would Yassen have thought to ask? But…if he had seen Alex bug the other rooms on a security camera, why would he even bother to ask?

Deciding this might be a test, Alex shook his head 'no' in answer to Yassen's question.

Alex wondered why he was telling Yassen the truth and hoped he would not regret it. Moving behind him, Yasses started tugging at the bonds. A second later, Alex felt a sawing motion travel past his numb hands and up his arms.

"You will follow me," Yassen said in Alex's ear, and the few strands that fell there moved as his breath rustled them. One of the ropes fell away before he started working on the next. "Should you try to run, I will not chase you. But I will not try to help you again if you're caught."

The last rope fell away and Alex bit his lip at the pain he felt upon straightening his back.

Tugged up and out of his seat by Yassen's insistent grip, Alex's unprepared legs failed him. Being unused and kept in the same position for the last few hours, the nerves felt deadened.

Mouth tightening in frustration at himself, Alex nodded at Yassen's questioning look but stayed still for a moment as his legs painfully woke up. Yes, he could walk, the nod said and Yassen nodded back.

When he felt more sure of himself, Alex pulled away from the hand that had kept a steady grip on his arm. Yassen cast him another glance, then moved out the door and down the hall. Alex noticed he was walking deeper into the warehouse, not toward the exit….

There was a brief moment of hesitation, in which Alex looked up through the hall behind him. Here was his chance, and did he really want to let it go?

His feet moved back and forth uneasily, and with a deep beath, he turned and hurried after Yassen's retreating figure.

Maybe he was a fool for not leaving when he got the chance, but none of the questions circling his mind had been answered yet. Yassen could answer most of them, and the man had received plenty of chances to kill him in the past, it seemed stupid to do it now.

It got darker the farther into the building they went. The lights overhead needed changing and Alex found himself squinting in the dark, almost running into the man when he stopped in front of a door. Taking out a ring with several keys hanging upon it, Yassen searched through them slowly.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Alex looked behind him, just waiting for someone to see them. This fear made him wonder if he even had anything to fear, so he asked.

"Where are you taking me? Were you told to take me out of the room?" For his efforts, Alex got nothing. Yassen did not even spare him a glance.

Finding the key he was looking for, Yassen unlocked the door, pushed it open, and glanced behind them before slipping outside. The first thing Alex saw was water. They had found their way to the back of the building, and a peir stood close by, the water surrounding it.

The verdant surroundings shimmered with a grayish light, and overhead the moon shone on. A swift breeze blew about, rustling the long leafed plants that grew at the water's edge.

Attached to the pier by a long rope, was a small boat. Alex found his eyes drawn to it as the choppy water forced it into swaying back and forth.

Striding toward the dock, Yassen tucked the keys away and reached inside his inner pocked of the light jacket he wore. Alex's vague, and rather wary idea of what he might be reaching for was proven accurate when Yassen pulled out a pistol.

To his relief, Yassen did not turn and point it at him. Instead, he kept walking, shoes light against the pavement as he transferred the weapon to the leather belt sling around his abdomen.

"Is that what I'll be killed with?" Alex asked bravely, even though he continued to follow. He kept finding himself wavering back and forth between surety that Yassen meant him no harm, and a well of uncertainty.

From behind, it was hard to tell if Yassen really was rolling his eyes, but the man made a sound that could have been a grunt of exasperation or a grim chruckle. Neither seemed very appealing to Alex.

Upon reaching the boat, Yassen untied the thick rope with swift fingers. Alex, watching confusedly from nearby, voiced a incredulous question, "Are you helping me escape?"

That's when floodlights attached to the roof of the warehouse turned on, streaming their area with light and momentarily blinding them. A second later, they were being surrounded.

**Authors Summary: **Well, I wanted to post this sooner, but then we had Easter, cousins came over and stayed all week, the power went out earlier today, and it's my little bro's birthday...although he's not so little. He went away for Boy Scout camp last year and came back a foot and a half taller. Happy Bday bro, may you PLEASE grow in maturity, ^_- Now I need to go work on Faint Hearted, poor Alex is getting chewed out for not saving K Unit and Yassen yet, forget the fact that he was half dead when Nathan found him. *Is exasperated* Check out my Yahoo group for updates, or my Twitter, the links are in my profile! **NEXT: **Alex gets the answers he wants, and Smither's ring suddenly makes sense.


	3. Chapter 3: Breaking and Entering

Alex brought a hand up as he blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Voices too close for comfort rose in anger, and surprise echoed around them. Alex found himself stepping back, his natural self-protective instincts telling him to be wary. He stepped back too far, however, and was suddenly wind milling his arms in a useless effort to stay upright and out of the water that sloshed around the dock.

He need not have worried, a steady hand pulled him back to safety, fingers intertwined with the cotton of his dirty shirt. Alex inhaled deeply, embarrassment showing on his face as he met Yassen's eyes, "Thanks—"

There was no chance to say anything else, without warning, a large explosion shook the ground. Once again, Alex found himself off balance and grasped at the post the boat had been tied to. The light that had been focussed on them swerved in another direction, as the guard on the roof was knocked over by the force of the explosion.

"That will be the diesel I left out," Yassen said, and there was a humorous glint in his eyes that Alex could only gape at.

"You—what?"

Yassen glanced at him once, then gracefully jumped in the boat and offered Alex a hand.

Suspicious, and rather worried at whatever Yassen had done, Alex did not take the offered hand. The exhale that came next could have been a sigh expressing his displeasure at Alex's lack of trust or one of exasperation.

"Alex," the tone of his voice was sensible, "The fire I started will only last for so long, get in. I would never harm you."

Well, that just made Alex feel so much better, but his curiosity—the same damn curiosity that had gotten him in this mess, was piqued. Like every other time before, even with that little nudging that said, "Dude, think it over," Alex went with the newest opportunity and accepted Yassen's help getting into the boat.

No sooner had Alex sat down then the sound of breaking glass made him cringe. From the building, downstairs windows cracked as the heat of the rising flames started to eat away at the roof. With the fire to take care of, no one seemed to pay anymore attention to the whir of a motor as Yassen got the engine started...no one but Seven.

Alex hadn't even seen his fast approach, but as the small boat pulled away from the dock, someone let out a horrible yell. He turned to see Seven running towars them and sliding to a halt a moment later as he reached the edge of the dock.

"Go, go, go," Alex muttered urgently as Seven lifted his arms, a pistol expertly held in his hands. The mounting flames outlined Seven's figure, and the light was reflected from the lake straight into the man's eyes. This caused them to glint, and add to the already threatening pose he held.

Even slightly arrogant, and not near as experienced as some of the men Alex had encountered, Seven still presented an intimidating threat as he narrowed his eyes and took aim. No matter of speed could have outran the bullet.

The boat had picked up speed, the water encircled them on all sides and splashed the back of Alex's shirt as Yassen pushed him down and turned the boat sharply. It didn't matter, he was too late and the bullet was embedded in Alex's skin in a matter of milliseconds.

Alex didn't yell, but he didn't need to in order for Yassen to know he had been injured. The man's hand had a tight, protective grip on his shoulder, and he felt the way Alex jerked as the bullet slammed into his skin.

Pain etched its way across Alex's face, his mouth dropping open to inhale sharply as the breath had been knocked out of him. One hand went up to stop the sudden flow of blood that coursed from the new wound. There was no air in his lungs left to yell, but Alex managed a pathetic moan. Yassen's face, already tight with stress, seemed to cloud over with anger.

From back on the deck, Seven yelled one last thing that Alex heard even over the sound of crackling flames and the whir of a motor.

"I'll find you, traitor!"

Alex sat up slowly, pulling away from Yassen's hand ever present on his shoulder. His fingers were sticky with blood that leaked through his tight grasp on the arm wound. The dark water reflected the flames of the building which burnt bright, a huge lamp lighting the wilderness around it.

Eyes blurred with pain, Alex squinted at the shore, seeing at once the solitary figure who continued to watch their departure.

"Where are we going?" Alex gritted out, trying his best not to make his pain too evident. Would Yassen even keep Alex around now that he was injured? It was sure to mess up any plans he must have had, and it would most surely slow them down.

"My plans have changed," Yassen replied shortly, he was facing away from Alex as he cautiously directed the small boat across the calm waters.

Those few words sent a chill through Alex. Several thoughts were having a raging battle in his head, none of them winning, but all becoming confused as they danced around each other.

"You know," Alex said slowly, "this really would be the best place to drop a body-"

Yassen didn't let him finish, "When I come across a body I wish to dispose of, I'll take that into consideration. For now, however, I think it would be best if you conserved your strength. We will be walking quite a long distance tonight."

Unsure if he should be relived or if he should just ask Yassen to kill him off already, Alex bit his tongue and focused on his injury. The bullet was wedged pretty deep, but it had not came out the other side. Removing it would be a painful process, and not one that Alex was looking forward to.

The boat slowed after a few short minutes, and the motor's steady 'whirr' sound calmed to a low growl as they came to the shore.

Yassen stepped onto the shore, and with Alex watching him from the safety of the boat, pulled it completely out of the water.

"I could have gotten out to help," Alex muttered, feeling rather insulted but shaky. A bullet in his arm, was by far not the worse thing that could have, or has, happened to him.

"I doubt there is anything you 'could' not do, Alex. However, what you need to do, and what you could do are two completely different topics," Yassen said, as he now dragged the boat into some nearby overhanging foliage. Alex stared after him, feeling rather idiotic at the sight he must have made.

"Come," Yassen ordered.

He hesitated, but, really, where could he go? Not very far with a bullet in his arm, that was for certain.

Reluctantly following, Alex walked in Yassen's footsteps in the thick grass as they broke away from the water and to the main road. Alex could still smell the smoke, it was a reminder of what Yassen was capable of. There could have been people in that building, people that wanted to kill him, sure...but still. Every stone could be felt through Alex's shoes, and after a mile of walking in silence, he was getting rather fed up.

"Where exactly were you planning on taking me?"

"As far away as can be managed with an injury."

Yassen did not notice that Alex had stopped following him until he was over fourteen steps in front of him. When he did realize this, what Alex could see in his expression reflected...well, certainly not concern, but maybe annoyed worry?

"Are you all right to continue walking? It is not too much farther."

Alex nodded, but his arm ached fiercely from staying in the same position for so long, and he was tired of following Yassen about without knowing what his plan was. Since Alex still wasn't moving, Yassen walked back to stand beside him. He met Alex's eyes, and slowly raised his hand to gauge his reaction, when Alex did not flinch away, he peeled back his hand from the still leaking wound.

Pulling back the sleeve of his shirt was more painful than pulling his hand away had been. The blood soaked cotton had begun to dry, and it stuck to his skin like a new band aid pulling and irritably tugging at his sore flesh.

Alex peered down as the wound on his upper arm was revealed. Around them the night was alive with curious insects adding their sounds to the sound of the wind softly rustling tree leafs.

"You've been very quiet," Yassen said as he pulled a handkerchief from the back pocket of his pants. He folded it, and then tied it about the injury with careful knots.

He didn't seem like the type to carry about a handkerchief...mostly because Alex could not imagine the assassin sweating, and trying to conjure up an image of Yassen blowing his nose-that was beyond him.

"You've already proven to be rather inadequate when it came to answering my questions," Alex muttered as he wiped his sticky hand on his shirt.

Yassen looked at the bloody hand print that now stained Alex's shirt and frowned, though it seemed to be more from the sight than from Alex's words.

He turned without a sound, his feet just as silent as he was verbally. Alex let out a soundless sigh and continued following Yassen.

Abruptly, Yassen swerved off the dirt road and stepped into the thick grass that grew beside the worn down road. Alex stared after him bemused by the sudden change of direction, but after a moment he followed taking large strides to catch up with the assassin.

It took a while, but Alex soon saw lights in the distance. He couldn't be sure whether it was from a town or just streetlights from a nearby road.

The rooftop of a house came into his sight, Alex faltered in his footing and Yassen glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised. Alex came up beside he man, staring at what he could see of the house.

Alex had so many thoughts running through his head, all of them questions involving what they were doing, and if anyone was going to get hurt.

Yassen approached the house, walking across the lawn as if he had been here several times before. maybe he had, Alex suddenly thought. There were no other houses around, it was lonesome out here, but with a peaceful undercurrent. No car sat in the drive way, and Yassen approached the front door without showing any signs of wariness.

"Do-do you _live_ here?" Alex asked, surprised and worried. "It's so close to the warehouse-someone will find us..."

Yassen cut him off with a sharp look, and reached up to one of the beams of the protective covering over the door. From atop it, he pulled down a dusty key and inserted it into the door knob.

It opened without a sound, and Alex peered over Yassen into the dark room. Cool air from the air conditioning ruffled his hair, and Alex shivered and let himself be led into the room.

The carpet was plush under his feet, and without looking down, he knew that his dirty footprints were now imprinted there. From the single streetlight that illuminated the entry way, Alex saw his and Yassen's shadow stretching out across the floor like a giant.

Nudging him into the room more, Yassen shut the door and locked it firmly.

From the side of the door, Yassen flipped on a light. It took Alex perhaps 10 seconds after blinking, to realize with certainty, that this was not Yassen's home. For one thing, it had too much character. The room was open, without any narrow doorways or tine halls. The main room was bright and cheery, the couch was sky blue with light green pillows, and directly across from it sat a large chair that was light green with one light blue pillow. Everything about the room seemed to tell of many hours put into it, and that the decorator had a firm opinion on what looked good and what did not.

Though Alex was not sure he agreed with the decorator's taste, he did admire a strong will and character.

What came about from these observations was this; Yassen most certainly did not live here.

Spinning about on his heel, Alex said, "You just broke into someone's house!"

The man had certainly done worse, but the idea of bringing their wretched problems into a happy home, and possible having bad luck follow-it did not bode well with Alex's conscious.

Yassen eyed him carefully, "You might want to re-word that, I do believe _we_ broke in."

Glaring, Alex watched Yassen walk further into the room, turned to go to the kitchen and then disappeared around a doorway. He muttered as soon as the man was out of sight, "Yeah, but when the fuzz ask me what happened, _you're_ going to sound like the bad guy."

His muttered rebellion was shortly interrupted by Yassen calling him from somewhere he could not see, "Come here, Alex."

Alex walked into the kitchen, it was also artistic in its own way. It was bright red, with a black and white tiled floor. It reminded him of an old diner he had seen in an American magazine, but without the poodle skirts and juke box. On the fridge, there was an old picture obviously drawn by a child.

The stick figures made him sure of it, but it was the words written in crayon that made his heart ache. "I love my mummy!" was written like a proud banner over the picture where a tall stick figure held the hand of a small stick figure.

The person that lived here had a child, and as far as Alex was concerned, they were in danger.

Swallowing roughly, Alex marched to what felt like his death down the hall and to the open doorway of another bright room. This time, it was a bathroom that greeted him. That had not stopped the owner from going crazy with the paint; even Alex knew that pink and red clashed, and it burnt his eyes just a tad. The walls were a light pink, and the carpets that lay in front of the tub and loo were red. The loo itself was the only thing not looking like a character from Sesame Street had puked all over it.

Yassen sat on the edge of the tub, a medical supplies kit at his side.

Questioningly, Alex raised his eyebrows. Yassen gesturing for him to sit on the closed lid of the loo did not ease Alex's feelings of tension.

He shifted in the doorway, "Erm, shouldn't we leave before the family comes home?"

"They won't be home for several hours yet, sit."

With worry etched in every jerky movement he made, Alex sat stiffly on the edge of the loo.

Yassen did not frown, but his eyes narrowed at Alex's stance. He then stood up abruptly, and left the bathroom with Alex staring after him not even ashamed to admit his mouth dropped open a bit.

How bipolar could one person be?

Yassen came back shortly, a thick glass in his hands full of an amber liquid. He held it out and waited for Alex to take it and then watched as he warily looked into the glass.

"It will ease some of the discomfort," Yassen offered as he sat himself back down on the edge of the tub and started to undo the knot of Alex's bandage. "A bit of liquid courage might do you well."

Alex eyed the liquid and took a wary sniff as Yassen's finger's slipped underneath the bandage to ease it away from the wound. At Yassen's urging glance, Alex took a hesitant sip and the liquid burned its way down his throat.

His eyes watered, and he tried not to cough. "Liquid courage, eh?" he said, not expecting a reply.

Glancing down at his injury, Alex decided he might be thankful for Yassen and his lack of concern with underage drinking.

As the bandages were fully removed, the extent of the injury could be seen. Alex looked away sharply, instead focusing on Yassen who had leaned forward to examine the wound.

"How bad is it?" Alex dared to ask.

Yassen met his eyes, and Alex was reassured at the calmness he found there. "It is not bleeding heavily, and the bullet is not buried deep. I'm going to remove the bullet," he said.

However, Alex only nodded and gritted his teeth. From his back pocket, Yassen removed a very thin, but lethally sharp knife. For a faint moment, Alex wondered how Yassen could have had that in his back pocket without stabbing himself-but then as the image of that knife sliding easily into his skin made him freeze and all thoughts of Yassen's weapon carrying habits dispersed.

"It's been sterilized once already," Yassen said, and then doused the blade in alcohol over the edge of the bathtub behind him.

Alex was no stranger to pain, he had met and fought hopeless battles with every type of pain, but this, the anticipation was perhaps one of the most terrifying things he'd ever experienced.

"Stay still," he said, managing to make it sound like a suggestion more than a command.

Alex watched as Yassen brought that knife close, holding it deftly as he angled Alex's arm in a better position to access the wound. With one hand, he cupped the back of Alex's arm, and with the other he held the knife carefully over the open wound.

There was a pause, and Alex was at once grateful for the delay and angry because he just wanted it over. Without warning, Yassen was pressing down on the knife handle and the blade was cutting him easily.

He had not counted on this. The memory of pain is always dimmed with time, though one remembers that pain is unpleasant, the memory of the exact way it felt is never the same as the actual sensation. Alex's memories of pain had not prepared him for this.

Alex drew in a breath, he felt his face pale as pain followed that blade's path like a river rushing over a weak dam. His eyes closed, but it didn't matter, because he could feel the blade inside his skin, and his whole body was yelling at him to reject the foreign object. Moving away, or even breathing in to quickly could cause him even more pain-instead, Alex froze.

Yassen worked the knife around the bullet, the two hard substances rubbing against each other and causing a queasy feeling to overcome Alex. The bullet seemed to have moved closer to the surface, which was exactly what Yassen had wanted.

When he finally withdrew the knife, Alex could feel fresh blood trailing down his arm. Yassen did not remove his other hand from where it cupped Alex's arm, and he did not inquire as to how Alex felt. Even if he had, the young spy could not have answered. Alex was pretty sure he would barf upon opening his mouth.

The other hand returned a second later, and a different object was pressed inside the wound.

This one's edge was not sharp, and for some reason it seemed to hurt more. A low groan fell from Alex's lips, head hanging as Yassen calmly worked.

Yassen's knee suddenly touched his, and Alex blinked down at the sight feeling odd that the man would try to offer him any form of comfort at all.

"Almost," Yassen said, his voice quiet but reassuring.

There was an odd feeling that resonated from within his arm. Yassen's hand stilled. He slowly withdrew his hand, and Alex glanced up at the man's face to see his eyebrows drawn in concentration, a frown lightly turning his mouth.

When the device was all the way out, Yassen turned away and placed the object on the counter. Unable to not look, Alex peered over at the counter and bit his lip at the sight.

A pair of rather long tweezers had drawn the bullet out from his skin, the instrument was bloody from the tip nearly to where Yassen had handled it. The bullet itself lay there right below it, the underlying color completely hidden as it was stained red and shiny.

It was amazing how something so small could cause him so much pain, it had not been too long since another bullet had almost taken his life. A familiar twinge over his heart made him cringe, hastily looking away from the bullet to where Yassen was gathering a wet cloth.

He cleaned the area around the wound, then, drew a sterilized needle already threaded from the first aid kit.

"What kind of injuries is this family expecting?" Alex joked, but his voice was hoarse.

Yassen glanced at him, his own knee still touching Alex's. "The closest hospital is too far away for most serious injuries, one must be prepared for every circumstance."

The next moment, he felt that needle prick the skin around the wound and felt the thread pulling at the skin. Alex wished he was unconscious, being able to feel the wound was worse than the pain that followed. He'd never been bad when it came to dealing with pain, but when he remembered how it felt to be injured-or that moment when you know this wound can not be healed with a little neosporin and a band aid, it was a lot more difficult to deal with.

Intent in his job of sewing up the wound, Yassen did not notice that Alex had begun to study him.

He'd never been this close to the other man, and with good reason. Who wanted to be all buddy buddy with a murderer?

But at this angle, Alex could see the faint bristle on Yassen' s chin, and how his forehead had very faint lines from his intense scrutiny. His light eyes moved with the needle, taking care not to make mistakes or cause Alex anymore pain than necessary.

As he finished and pulled back, Yassen caught Alex's eyes. In the staring match that followed Alex studied the assassin's eyes for any sign of emotion. Just a hint of why he was helping Alex, or just a tidbit of what he was thinking, that was all Alex wanted. Unfortunately, though not surprisingly, Alex was let bereft.

Yassen looked away as a disappointed look crossed Alex's face and reached for something to bind the wound with. His hand came back with medical gauze which he placed beside him before reaching for Alex's arm.

"Hold it here," he directed softly, holding Alex's arm aloft but supporting it still with the same cupping motion.

A moment later, the wound that had been open and bleeding less than an hour ago was being wrapped up.

Alex looked down at it silently, wondering how long this injury would hurt and what Jack would say. Another scar to add to his collection.

The bandage was almost at its end when Yassen looked up, his face intent but still emotionless.

"Hold this, I'll be back."

Alex grasped the end of the bandage, watching confusedly as Yassen moved swiftly out of the bathroom and down the hall in the opposite direction from the way they had entered. His abrupt departure left Alex confused-the medical tape was right there on the rim of the tub and a pair of small scissors was beside it. Where had Yassen gone? Couldn't he at least have finished with the bandage?

A moment later, these questions were answered.

He heard the key in the door, the sound of metal scarping against metal as the mechanics inside the door knob turned to allow entry inside the house. Alex stopped breathing. There was a clang as the keys fell onto a table, and the small tapping sounds of heels walking over the hardwood kitchen floors.

The owner had not noticed the bathroom light on. Alex took his chance.

He stood up in one swift move, his feet were asleep from sitting in the same spot for so long. He blocked this feeling out, along with the pain in his arm. He had to move, the owner of the house would be traumatized to find bloody bandages-but if he moved fast enough, that would be all they found.

He ducked out he bathroom into the hall, and literally dove into the closest open doorway. The room was pitch black, and he landed in a roll that made little to no noise.

Alex froze in this crouch to listen. Humming and the tapping of heels against the floor was still noticeable, the woman had just opened the fridge from the sound of it-when she abruptly stopped humming.

The fridge closed, a drawer opened, and hesitant footsteps made their way down the hall.

A tirade of curses ran through Alex's head and he lowered himself and crawled under the bed just as the lady reached the open doorway of the bathroom. The carpet had a terrible musty odor, and a thin layer of dust from the bed skirt tickled his nose annoyingly.

Alex heard the woman gasp. Though he could not see her from his place under the bed, her shadow was moving across the floor of the bedroom and tilting alarmingly back and forth.

"What the hell..." the woman muttered. There was something vaguely familiar about that voice, but before Alex could ponder it more, she was moving away from the bathroom and down the hall towards the back of the house. She did not look in the bedroom he was currently occupying.

Alex took his chance when he heard a door open and shut near the end of the hall. Rolling out from under the bed, Alex sprinted down the clear hallway, and grasped the doorknob to flee from the house, his heart beating in his chest.

The door flew open, and Alex barely managed not to gasp as a gun was suddenly pushed far too close to his face for comfort.

He met the hardened eyes, and watched as they softened first with confusion and then with a dawning of recognition.

"Alex?"

**Author's Note: **Can you imagine my shame when a reader pointed out that it had almost been a year since I updated? Three weeks ago, I went to check, and yep, they were right. I love my story ideas, and the fact that even though I have not updated, people still take time to review. This chapter is dedicated to those that are still hanging around, after all this time! :) Hope you enjoy, and if you spot any mistakes, please take a second to point them out, I greatly appreciate it! For update alerts, and teasers of new chapters, you can join my Yahoo group-and check out my deviantart page. On another note-I graduate from High School in less than two months...how scary is that? Got any college tips? I would love to hear them! Please review, and have a great weekend! :D


	4. Chapter 4: Uncomfortable Questions

For once in his life, Alex had no idea what to say. He stood in the doorway, wondering if it was shock that kept him from providing a quick and believable alibi for his presence.

"Uuurgh," Alex said smartly, and his would be attacker lowered the gun quickly to her side.

He remembered her of course, she was the one that had delivered him to the warehouse in the first place. Regina still wore her high healed boots that he had first noticed when she had picked him up at the airport, but the cheery look in her eyes was gone, instead, she was alarmed and wary.

"Alex-why are you here? How did you get in my house?" She moved a step back, tucking the gun into a back pocket after turning the safety on. As she moved, the light from the porch illuminated Alex's clothing.

Regina inhaled sharply, and Alex looked down at himself. Yes, blood soaked clothing did tend to surprise some people, for a second, even _he_ was surprised having forgotten about his injury.

"Oh, yeah, about that-"

"What happened! God...come inside," Regina said urgently, already moving over the threshold and dragging him inside by his limp hand.

As he was forcibly moved once again into the safeness of the house, Alex found himself wondering about Yassen's sudden decampment. Why had he abandoned him? Was this his plan; to save him just to leave him with the first person they came across. It didn't seem like a very Yassen-like plan at all, there was not enough danger involved for one thing.

"-and I knew that a teenager going over in that vicinity was a bad idea, I should have asked you more about where you were going. God knows I would never have left my daughter out at the side of the road, I wouldn't care what reason or exscu-"

"There was nothing you could have done," Alex said quickly, feeling bad that Regina would somehow blame herself for his current state.

She turned from where she had been shutting the drawer she had probably fetched the gun from earlier.

Her dark green eyes were sad, and she studied him for a second, like a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve.

Alex realized that he had no plan to get him out from under her 'suspicious behavior' radar. Had this been _anyone else, _he could have used the back story MI6 provided him with. He was a student at a nearby boarding school, dared into breaking into the warehouse and he had done so to escape ridicule from his peers...but that wouldn't work on Regina. She'd picked him up, heard him say that an Uncle lived next to the warehouse. Great.

"Come on, let's get you fixed up," she murmured, and then she firmly grasped his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen table. The chair legs scraped across the linoleum floor, as she pulled it out and pushed him down into it brusquely.

Between her and Yassen, Alex would probably have several nice bruises to go along with his other variations of injuries.

Pulling out another chair, Regina sat beside him and pulled up his sleeve not seeming to notice his reluctance to let her see the wound.

"I've had some experience with snake bites and the such, and I know how to deal with small wounds...Anne cut her finger one time making candles, I'm still not sure how she managed that, we live so far away from any hospital that I just had to give her stitches myself. From the amount of blood, it looks like you'll definitely need..."

She had pulled his sleeve all the way up and noticed the gauze firmly wrapping up his arm.

"Oh," she said, and glanced up, "you tried to wrap it yourself?"

She was already undoing the bandage, and Alex closed his eyes.

The bandage fell off, and the silence was almost harder to bear then Regina's incessant talking. Her voice at least showed what she was thinking, but with the silence, he had no idea what to expect.

Unsure what to do, Alex glanced up ready to run in case she somehow realized that he was in a much bigger situation than just a little 'accident'.

In one fluid motion, Regina stood and stalked out of the kitchen and down the hall.

"Don't move!" she snapped grimly over her shoulder while disappearing into the bathroom.

Shakily, Alex rubber his sweaty hands down his thighs. He sought out the windows, almost expecting Yassen to be in one gesturing for him to run. But that was silly. Yassen was probably half way to some unknown island...on his personal jet...that he had learned how to fly as an infant...while drinking vodka from a sippy cup.

Alex stood up, that last thought having stirred something inside him. Why was he sitting here? Just because Regina told him to? He had to get away from here, find a way to contact MI6 and ask them what the Hell had happened. Why had he been captured when they had once again assured him of his safety. It was getting old.

However, standing up suddenly felt like the last thing he should have done when he noticed how his vision had just went black. Nervously, Alex sank back down woozily into his chair and let his head sink into his hands.

Regina's heeled boots clicked slowly back into the kitchen, but Alex didn't sit up to look at her until a familiar tinkling sound of metal came from a small object on the counter.

Alex looked up, already knowing that he'd find the blood stained bullet between them.

She was once again watching him, her face passive.

Taking a deep breath, Regina moved beside him and carefully lifted his arm. Her eyes had a knowingness in them that came from medical experience, or at least a lot of sewing up her daughter's accidents.

"There's no way you did this alone. The stitches are way too neat, and you could not have sewn them on yourself, not at that angle. Also, I don't care how...talented you might be at whatever, I don't believe you could have removed that-that _bullet_ by yourself," she sighed and dropped his arm carefully.

"You're just a kid, after all."

He stared down at the floor, wondering what options her conclusions left him with.

"So, I just want to know, does the other person pose any danger to my family's safety?"

Only if you're on his kill list, Alex thought...and then, he had to ask himself, was that true?

Those men that had died in that explosion were most certainly not all supposed to die, not even Yassen would be sent to kill ten or more men at once...right? And if _that _wasn't true, then, what in the world was he dealing with? Wasn't it bad enough that the man apparently _wasn't_ dead after these many months Alex had been believing him to be so? Didn't anyone feel he deserved some answers?

"The fact that you have to think about your answer worries me," Regina said, eyes narrowing in an emotion that was certainly not worry. "Am I in danger or not?"

Okay, think fast. Yassen was a killer, but he had not attempted to hurt Alex thus far, only help him-even going so far as to help him escape and then tending to his injuries. He did not want to hurt Alex, not yet at least. So, why would he harm Regina or her family just because she too was helping him. He wouldn't.

"No," Alex said decidedly. "He just wants to help me, and your house was the first one we came to. I'm sorry to intrude, I really am...I thought this was his house at first, and then once we came in...and I saw the pictures."

Regina bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth without seeming to notice.

"Who is _he_, Alex?"

Alex stood up, dodging Regina's quick hand when she tried to pull him back down. He then paced the length of the kitchen, doing a good imitation of Jack when she was troubled.

"I don't know, really. He worked for my Uncle, but he didn't like the way I was being treated, and once he saw how violent Uncle Fitz had become, he knew he had to get me away, though he didn't have a place to stay himself."

Regina rubbed her temples, and took in a deep breath. "Let me get this straight, he helped you escape after you were shot?"

"No, as we were getting away, my uncle saw and knew what was happening...and he got mad, and that's when it happened."

"Your own Uncle shot you."

Alex knew he might be asking too much, for Regina to believe this sob story, but his instinct told him to lay it on thick. Alex tightened his mouth, blinking hurriedly as if to rid tears from his eyes.

"I just wanted to get to know him a little better," he whispered into the heavy silence. The retro clock ticked on the wall, reminding them both that time was not standing still even though it felt that way.

He heard Regina come to her feet, and from behind she hugged him without hesitation. It was a quick embrace, but Alex was unused to signs of comfort from strangers. Even though Regina was technically not a stranger, he was still unsure how to respond. His arms hung limp at his sides, while his back stiffened at the contact.

He dared not hug her back. It was a weakness in his line of work, if you could care about someone, you could get hurt...and he was tired of getting hurt.

An emotional detachedness was required if you didn't want to falter and get hurt yourself. Too many times Alex had seen someone he considered a mentor or friend injured, and even killed, but no more. This would hopefully be his last job, considering it had become butchered when Yassen entered the picture, and Alex was determined not to let anyone he knew walk into the path of danger.

When Regina pulled away, and moved in front of him so she could look him in the face, Alex was still holding himself stiffly.

"Why did...your little friend run away when I came in?"

Little friend? Oh, Yassen would certainly appreciate that. Alex almost wished he was lurking about, just so he could overhear Regina's ignorant comments about his physique.

"I guess he thought he had done his job; I mean, he fixed me up."

"And then shoved you off on my poor unsuspecting self," Regina said bitterly.

Alex blinked at her, and was a bit pleased when she looked regretful. "I'm sorry, I've never had to deal with this before."

"Yeah, this is new to me too...my other uncles have never shot me," Alex mumbled slowly, as if in shock, all the while carefully avoiding Regina's eyes. Deceit was also a part of the job, he told himself when something inside asked him where his decency had gone and about what time did it plan on coming back.

"Hmm," Regina replied noncommittally , rubbing her temples. "Your uncle needs to be indicted, at the first possible convenience...but more important that than, I reckon, is getting you back to your family."

Well, that would certainly be a problem Alex thought, and tried not to wince.

"What's your Mum's number? I'll call her first, she should be the first to know you're okay," Regina moved to grab the phone, and then turned looking at Alex expectantly.

"Um," Alex replied, "I'm not sure you'll be able to reach her."

"We have to try, hun. Though, she must have known about your Uncle's violent tendencies, that was rather..."

Having noticed the strain on Alex's face, Regina dropped the matter.

"Do you need some pain relievers?"

Alex was well aware that this type of pain could not be eased by any type of medicine.

"No, it's just...you won't be able to reach my mum, or my dad."

"Okaaay...brothers then, or sisters?"

Alex ran a hand over his brow, "No...In fact, I have no idea who you should call."

Some things were still unclear to him. How had he been captured in the first place when MI6 said bluntly there was no chance of him being in danger. And why wasn't Yassen dead?

Regina placed a hand on his arm, to stop the insistent tapping he had unconsciously been making with his dirty nails. "Alex, why can't you call your parents?"

"They're dead."

Alex was used to seeing the horrified expression take over people's face when he mentioned his parent's fate. Once, he had tried to find other ways of putting it; they passed away, or they've moved on to a better place, but one elderly man had thought the latter meant they'd left him with his uncle and moved to Bermuda. Trying to explain would have been more painful, since the man was now railing against 'irresponsible adults', so Alex had left it at that.

But Regina went pale, and then her eyes got slightly glossy. Now Alex was horrified. Give him a mission and he would do anything required of him, steal, fight, swim around with sharks...but hand him a lady crying, and he felt completely unsure of himself.

"Er, It's okay. It was a long time ago," he said softly, "and I have a great guardian-that's who we should call, I'll just dial her...if you don't mind."

Carefully, Alex took the phone from Regina's relaxed hand and turned away to quickly dial home.

What the Hell was he supposed to say? Hey Jack, so the latest mission kind of blew up in my face...literally. Think you could get in touch with MI6 and ask them to come get me?

In the end, it didn't matter. Jack never answered, and Alex was relieved.

"She didn't answer, I guess I'll just book a flight back home myself, I have some cash that should cover it," Alex turned to see Regina had recovered herself enough to narrow her eyes.

"Tomorrow. We'll talk about that tomorrow, it's obvious that nothing will get done tonight. The only doctor around these parts is an hour away, but I think you'll be okay until then."

Alex shrugged and placed her phone back on the table face-flat. "So, what do you suggest I do then?"

Regina sighed and leaned on the table with one hand, using the other to take her boot off.

"My daughter is at a sleep-over, and so, you're going to sleep here. Though, there's only about four more hours before sunrise, and then I'm taking you to the doctor. We'll work on a solution from there."

"Fine," Alex said evenly.

She left her boots in the kitchen and padded silently to the exact same room he had hid in, an irony he appreciated. It was a cozy little room, and did not fit into his idea of what Regina's style was at all. Unlike everything else, this room was not vibrantly painted or elaborately decorated, it seemed Regina's tastes had been contained to only certain rooms.

"This was my dad's room," Regina said, piling some extra blankets out of a chest-of-drawers in the corner on the room. "He died about two years ago, but me and Anne never had the heart to go and change the room about."

Alex looked around, trying to get a sense of Regina's father's personality. There were a lot of old photographs, and a lot of giraffe statues along with some portraits of the African safari.

"I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it...but there are some pajama's of his that might fit you in those two drawers," Regina pointed them out, and then put her hands on her lower back with a tired expression. "Do you need anything?"

Alex was thirsty, and thought about replying in the negative, but the look in her eyes said she wanted to help anyway possible, and so he asked.

Regina returned and handed a large glass filled to the brim with water to him. "Anything else?"

Shaking his head, Alex drank the majority of his water, not noticing when Regina's eyebrows rose at his apparent thirst. "You could have told me earlier you were so thirsty, you cold be dehydrated."

Shrugging, Alex thanked her. She nodded, and hesitated in the doorway before moving away and shutting the door behind her.

Alone at last, Alex looked around the room, sighed and then undid his shirt and shoes before turning off the light, and finally crawled into the bed. It was a few moments after Alex had lain there before a distressing thought crossed his drowsy mind.

This bed had belonged to a man that was now dead...he really hoped that was not a sign.

**Author's Note: ** Hey guys, **please** take a second to review! Thanks for participating in my guessing game of, 'Who Shocked Alex!' For anyone guessing a member of K Unit, not _quite_ yet, but at least one of them will make a later appearance.  
This chapter goes out to all of those people who positively made me _beam_ with all their wonderful congrats and positive feedback on the last chapter of **Faint Hearted**. Thank you all so much, after responding to the reviews, I couldn't sleep I was so happy. Stayed up to past 3AM! Hopefully this story will also gain such a wonderful group of followers-and I'm hoping to update this one a lot more quickly. Does anyone here like **Harry Potter Fanfiction? **I'm writing a new fanfic, and I need help with the summary, the choices are in a poll in my profile, please go vote! Is anyone doing NaNoWriMo? If so, you should be my buddy, I'm under Scorpia. Hope to see you there! Please review, I'd love to know your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5: Running Towards Danger

**Author's Note**: Just a quick note, asking that people **please** review! Your opinions and feedback make all the difference. Thank you!

Once when Alex was younger, he came across one of Jack's psychology books on the parlour table. She had been pursuing the idea of being a child psychologist when Ian no longer needed her as a babysitter, though, she could not know when she would no longer be needed. Curiously, he paged through the heavy text and read a passage claiming that the last few things you think of before going to bed, were normally what you would then begin to dream about. Something about the intense focus made the thoughts incorporate with your dreams.

He'd read that the night of Christmas Eve when, once again, Ian was late.

Jack had tried to take his mind off the absence of his Uncle, but the lack of his kind voice and calming presence were hard not to notice. And so, Alex had sulked, though he knew it was not very adult of him.

That night, Alex, angry with his Uncle constant disappearances, had turned his thoughts to his parents that he knew so little about. His forehead wrinkled with tension as he closed his eyes tightly and thought hard and long about his Mum and Dad. He tried to picture their faces, and imagined them helping him open presents around a Christmas tree that he and his Dad had cut down together...like a real family.

It was only when Jack woke him up the next morning, the smell of french toast in the air and promises of presents soon to come, that he realized he hadn't dreamt once. Not of his Mum or Dad, not even of his constantly disappearing uncle.

Jack couldn't understand why he had started crying. Alex didn't try to explain, and she had assumed it was because Ian still wasn't home.

"He called, honey," she had tried to reassure him, "said he'd be home in a matter of hours. We can still open presents together!"

Even at a young age, Alex was a good pretender, and so he had smiled weakly at her and mumbled that he was getting out of bed.

Then, alone in his room, Alex had torn the pages out of that book. Hoping no one else would read those lying words and _hope _so ignorantly like he had.

Now, years later, Alex sat up drenched in sweat. There was no denying that this most recent nightmare had been brought forth due to his thoughts about Regina's father before he fell asleep.

In the nightmare, Regina's father had laid upon that very same bed dying, and beside him sat Regina holding his hand and murmuring comforting words. Suddenly, the room had shifted, and once again, there was the same old man, in the same old bed, dying. But, upon closer examination...Alex noticed some familiarities. The eyes, they were brown...but deep in color with a tinge of green around the iris. The hair, now gray with age had the same cut. The hands clenching the bed sheets in fear or maybe in pain, were the same...the left hand even had a scar that curved half way around the thumb.

The old man was Alex.

Unlike Regina's father though, he had no one there to comfort him when he died.

The room became thick with cobwebs, mildew appeared at the bottom of the curtains and then ran up the walls. The dim light from the windows gave the room a dim and depressing feel. Surrounded by death, the dying Alex took one last stuttering breath-

-and then, awoke.

Alex rubbed two hands over his face, crinkling his nose when they came away moist from sweat. He hadn't had a nightmare like that in a while, normally he'd awake from one quietly, as if even in his unconscious state he was trying not to draw attention to himself.

The sun had risen while he was in the middle of the nightmare, and Alex threw off the covers and got out of the bed silently. His arm was throbbing with pain, and the muscles were cramped and stiff. A change of clothes had been laid out for him atop the dresser, and Alex changed out of his gritty clothes, and put on the jeans and dress shirt. They were slightly too big, but better than his others that were still dotted on bloody and discolored from dirt.

Around him, the house was silent. Stepping into his shoes, Alex walked to the door listening, and then opened to peer out into the hall. There was a light on in the kitchen, and now he could smell fresh coffee and the warm smell of some kind of pastry.

From the kitchen, Regina also looked down the hall, a small frown on her face as she stirred something into a steaming cup. When she saw Alex, it split into a slight smile.

"I was hoping you'd be up, breakfast is done-I'm not sure if you eat it, but I'm a firm believer in it and will persuade you into my ways," she said jokingly.

Alex walked into the kitchen, trying to ignore how Regina's eyes were sizing him up.

"You sleep well?"

He nodded, hoping he hadn't thrashed about during the nightmare or given her any other sign in the night that would prove he was lying.

Regina took a sip of her coffee, strumming her fingers on the blue ceramic of the cup as her eyes trailed away from him over to the oven.

"Normally me and Anne drink coffee in the morning, but I can make you some tea..."

"I'm fine, thanks," Alex said, and then sat at the table as he had the night before. "Um, do you have some pain pills though?"

Blinking, Regina's face fell, "Good gracious, I'm so sorry, I wasn't even thinking. Of course you're going to need some medication," she turned away to the cabinet, her voice trailing off.

When she came to stand beside him a moment later, she had two tiny blue pills in one hand, and a large glass of water in the other.

While he took care of the medication, Regina pulled fresh bran muffins out the oven, and placed them on a hot pad in the center of the table. After a quiet breakfast, Regina placed their dished in the sink and checked the clock.

"If we leave now, we can catch the doctor's office before they leave for lunch at 11:30. Doctor Lee is a good friend of mine, she won't ask too many questions-I actually need to grab a book I borrowed from her and return it," with that last sentence, she took off down the hall.

Ten minutes later, Alex was again sitting in the passenger's seat of that yellow Volkswagen beetle. Regina was quiet for most of the ride, and Alex didn't interrupt her thoughts, he would rather not draw anymore attention to himself than the bloody bullet wound already had.

There was so little to be seen in these parts, besides the occasional house far away from the street but still visible, Alex saw exactly one post office (which was about the size of his parlor back at home) and a small store where a lady sat outside on a rocking chair, a gray cat curled up at her feet.

When they reached the doctor's office, which was in a surprisingly busy, though also small town, Alex was starting to feel drowsy. He had considered sleeping, Regina was unlikely to care, but some part of him warned him to stay aware. He was in a strange place, and still needed to be cautious about his surroundings.

Any men that survived the warehouse explosion could be out looking for him, or Yassen.

They parked in front of the doctor's office, an eggshell white building with a welcoming doormat, and well tended potted plants.

"Regina," the receptionist said in surprise, "did Anne-"

Regina cast a smile at Alex, "No Marge, Anne has been staying far away from sharp objects. She's at a friend's house now, I brought someone else to be seen this time."

She tipped her head at Alex, and the receptionist remained surprised, "Oh, well, I don't think I've ever seen you around these parts before. What's your name, dear?"

"Alex," Alex replied, casting a pleading look at Regina.

"What did you do to yourself?"

"I'm afraid we need to see Dr. Lee as soon as she is able, if you don't mind," Regina interrupted.

The receptionist nodded, a frown in her eyes and though she still looked extremely curious, she left her seat to go see if the doctor was available.

"Sorry," Regina muttered as she gestured for Alex to take a seat. "I don't think she realizes how intrusive she can be sometimes. If you had answered her we'd be here for hours explaining how a teenager got shot, and then she'd have called the local news-"

Alex must have looked amused at her quiet rant, because after looking at him, she bit her lip and made herself busy on her phone.

The receptionist came out a moment later, and beckoned them to the back room where Doctor Lee sat at a computer, typing something onto a medical form. She stood up as they entered, and immediately hugged Regina.

"Hey, surprised to see you again so soon," she said warmly. She had honey blond hair, and light brown eyes that stayed on the person she was talking to, making you feel like you had her whole hearted attention.

"Yeah, I brought you patient," Regina said, pulling Alex gently next to her.

Doctor Lee's eyes warmed. "Hi," she held out a hand and Alex shook it. "Well, let's get down to it, you can fill out the forms afterwards. Do you want Regina in here for this?"

Alex shrugged, "Doesn't matter."

She shut the door, and Alex cold almost hear the receptionist sigh from where she was hanging about the water cooler that was just outside the door.

Regina sat at the chair where the Doctor had been when they entered, and Alex gingerly sat on the examination table.

"Now, what seems to be the problem," Dr. Lee asked as she put on latex gloves.

"My arm," Alex said hesitatingly, hoping that would be enough. Regina gave him a gentle smile, and Alex sighed and rolled up his sleeve to expose the bandage.

Dr. Lee didn't ask question, just unrolled the bandage with careful fingers. When the wound was exposed, Alex couldn't help but stiffen up as he waited for the questions. None were forthcoming, and he glanced at the doctor.

She had a troubled look on her face, but her eyes were on the wound. Alex thought that maybe she did not know what had caused it, until-

"Someone did a very good job retrieving the bullet, and the stitches don't appear too tight. I'm just going to apply something that will fight any infection, and then apply a fresh bandage. How is your arm feeling?"

Alex moved it carefully, and winced. "It's stiff, the skin feels tight."

The doctor nodded, "Yeah, it will feel rather taut for a while. But, luckily, someone took good care of you and treated the wound quickly and efficiently. If you remember to do some daily exercises, and continue to apply fresh bandages, you'll be back to your old self in no time."

She treated the wound, and prescribed some heavy pain relievers for him before going to fetch the paperwork he would need to fill out. The fresh bandage was thicker than the one Yassen had made for him, it would almost certainly be noticeable even under his sleeve and Alex frowned thinking about having to explain this to Jack, not to mention those in MI6 though they would almost certainly ask what had happened anyway.

After all that, the Doctor left some paperwork to fill out, half of it Alex had no idea how to answer. In the end, he left a large part of the paperwork blank and hoped they would not demand he fill out the rest. Alex had used Jack's credit card number as use of payment, and hoped he could get home in time to explain why he had been to the doctor's before she saw the bill and started worrying.

Regina thanked her doctor friend, and promised to call her later. They went out to the car, and Alex got in feeling trepidation. Where would Regina want him to go next? Would she allow him now to go his own way, and head toward the airport so he could head back home?

Regina climbed into the driver's seat, and was humming a happy tune as she moved to buckle her seat belt-and stopped.

"Oh, I forgot to give this to Leah!" She grabbed the book from the dashboard where it had stayed the entire trip. "I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached," she laughed. "I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail!"

Alex grinned, saying to himself as the door closed, "Doctor Leah Lee?"

Out his window, Alex could see a little girl holding her mother's hand as they crossed the street and went into a beauty salon. It was a nice little town, one you wouldn't think about anything bad happening in.

The driver's door opened again, and Alex was a bit surprised, when Jack said she'd be back in a minute, it was usually five to ten minutes. Apparently that could not be said for Regina, and he turned to tell her so-and started so bad that his arm flew back into the door.

"You look like you're feeling better."

Considering how Alex was now gasping for breath, he didn't see how that could be true. "God damn it-shite. Yassen, don't do that," he gasped out.

Raising a sardonic brow, Yassen reached out and pulled Alex's arm away from his body and pushed up the sleeve to view the new bandage. Watching him nervously, Alex glanced out the window to see if Regina was on her way back yet. He really did not want her hurt in anyway.

Yassen released his arm, and Alex immediately pulled it back and fixed the sleeve. "You approve?" he asked sarcastically.

Yassen didn't reply, and Alex's mouth tightened. "Where the hell did you go last night? It's a damn good thing I knew her, she was really kind about me breaking into her home-even insisted upon taking me to the doctor," Alex said that last part a bit irritably.

"And you would rather have done what?"

Alex blinked quickly, not expecting that question. But when had he ever expected _anything _ that Yassen Gregorivich did?

"I don't know," he replied, a bit lost. "I have no idea what happened in that warehouse, before it blew it that is. Like, why were you there? They didn't even warn me you might be there."

"You want to know."

Alex gaped at him. "Of course I bloody well want to know!"

Yassen nodded, head turned away, looking out the window as he replied. "You'd better come with me then."

Barely retaining a snort, Alex replied. "Come with you-of course, and get myself put in more danger. Why didn't I think of that sooner!"

"I can't promise to keep you out of harms way," Yassen turned to him now, a sadness in his eyes that Alex did not know how to respond to. "I don't make assumptions like that. However, I can make you a promise...though, you won't like it. I promise, that should you decide to stay in this town, you will be dead before the week is at its end."

Alex's breath caught in his throat.

Yassen was watching him, perhaps expecting him to run, for that is exactly what Alex wanted to do, though it would get him no where.

His question was quiet and blunt, but Alex felt the answer would be momentous and so he leaned forward as he asked, "_Why?_"

Yassen stared him in the eyes, "For that answer, you'll have to come with me."

Well, that was just cheating, Alex decided. Though Yassen seemed to want him to come along, he wans't demanding it, and for that reason alone, Alex was willing to go along with the assassin...especially if it would answer his many questions.

Alex certainly didn't want Regina to wander back out, he wasn't sure if she still carried that gun with her or not and her certainly didn't want to be the one time find out.

"Let's go then," Alex sighed, and exited the vehicle.

**Author's Note: **Alex is running off with a dangerous assassin, hmm, can any good come from this? What do you think will happen? **I'm now 20 years old! **Had my birthday on Saturday, and I don't feel older at all. I demand a re-count. ;) My friend from the Netherlands has come down for a visit, so-shout out to his home near Amsterdam. Please take a moment to review, the feedback was rather sparse for this chapter, something that left me feeling a bit bereft. I've been a bit spoiled by the Faint Hearted followers! Thanks for those that did read and review, it really does make a difference! Stay tuned for more chapter updates!


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